


Greetings From The Refuge

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: #LetCrutchieSayFuck2K18, Ableism, Angst, Blood, Hurt, Swearing, Violence, lots of angsty crutchie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The story of what happened to Crutchie during his week in the Refuge.





	1. Dear Jack

**Author's Note:**

> This starts at Letter From The Refuge and goes up to right before the Refuge is closed. (Lots of triggers you have been warned)

Lookin’ back, I don’t remember much of being arrested. I remember screamin’ for Jack, or anyone really, and Snyder beatin’ me wit’ my crutch, but the rest is blurry, like a page with water runnin’ down it, smearin’ the ink. I wake up on a top bunk next to two other kids. I learn their names are Twitch and Kit. Twitch has been in here for years, but Kit has only been here for a few months. I can’t even imagine bein’ here for that long. 

My leg hurts even worse than usual. I can always feel a dull pain ebonating through it, but now it feels like there’s a dozen needles sticking into it. I can feel bruises forming all over my body, no doubt from the fight in Newsies Square, my left shirt sleeve is ripped, and there are new blood stains on my shirt, cuts from my arrival at this hell. Not to mention all of the blood on my face… I have to distract myself. I’ll go crazy if I don’t. I’ll... write a letter to Jack! Yeah! I usually keep spare paper and pencils in my pocket, just in case Jack wants ta draw somethin’ and doesn’t have supplies.

_ Dear Jack, _

_ Greetings from the Refuge! How are you? I’m okay. I guess I wasn’t much help yesterday… Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch. Oh yeah Jack, this is Crutchie by the way. These here guards, they is rude. They say jump, boy you jump or you’re screwed. But the food ain’t so bad, least so far. Cause so far they ain’t brung us no food! Ha ha! I miss the rooftop. Sleepin right out in the open in your penthouse in the sky, and there’s a cool breeze blowin even in July. Anyway, so guess what! There’s this secret escape plan I got! Tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window, climb down, then take off like a shot! Maybe though, not tonight, I ain’t slept and my leg still ain’t right. Hey, but Pulitzer, he’s goin down! And then Jack, I was thinkin we might just go. Like you was sayin. Where it’s clean and green and pretty, with no buildings in your way. And you’re riding palaminos every day. Once that train makes… _

_ Damn this place.  _

_ I’ll be fine! Good as new. But there’s one thing I need you to do. On the rooftop you said that a family looks out for each other. So you tell all the fellas from me to protect one another. _

_ The end, your  ~~friend~~ ~~best friend~~ brother, _

_ Crutchie _

I carefully fold up the letter and slide it into my pocket. Jack will visit, right? Or one of the fellas? I need this letter to get to Jack. Jus’ in case I don’t get a real goodbye. But no, I can’t think like that. Jack would want me to stay postive, to stay happy. If Jack were here, he’d be crackin’ jokes and talkin’ back ta the guards. I have to be strong like Jack.

“Hey! Crutchie! Ya here?” A voice whisper shouts. Despite the protests from Twitch that I need ta rest, I manage to clamber down from the top bunk an’ use my crutch to hobble over to the barred window, where I see Specs’ head peekin’ through.

“Specs!” I exclaim, so glad to see a friendly face.

“Oh my god, Crutchie…” Specs gasps when he sees me.

“I’se is fine Specs.” I try to manage one of my usual smiles, but I know Specs can tell I’se is faking it.

“You look like hell.” Specs says bluntly.

“I’ll be fine, Specs. How are the fellas?” I ask, quickly changing the subject.

“Les has a sprained wrist, Race looks like a human punching bag, and Romeo’s face is almost unrecognizable, but other than that it’s mostly just bruises and cuts. Nothing too serious.” Specs says. He is trying to keep his voice steady, but I can hear the worry seeping into his voice.

“How’s Jack?” I force myself to ask.

“Sorry Crutch, nobody’s seen him since he ran off.” Specs says.

“Can, can you give him this? You can probably find ‘im up in his penthouse.” I pull the letter out of my pocket and hand it to Specs.

“Sure thing, Crutchie.” Specs take the piece of paper and carefully puts it in his own trouser pocket.

“Crutchie!” A frantic voice from behind me says. “Snyder’s comin’!” I whip around and see Kit frantically motioning for me to come away from the window.

“You have to get out of here, Specs! Don’t let them catch you.” I tell Specs, and his face disappears from the window, promising to come back soon. I lean against the wall as a support to push myself up into a standing position and start the painful trek back to my bunk. I’se is almost there when the main doors to the bunk room slams open loudly, despite it bein’ the middle of the night.

“Out of bed? You tryin’ to escape?” Snyder asks in his rough voice, stomping over to where I’se is standing. I’se is too scared to reply. “Answer me, boy!” He shouts.

“N-no.” I stammer. My heart is pounding in my chest.

“What was that?” Snyder asks, stepping in closer to me.

“I said no.” I try to stand up a bit taller, despite the shooting pain in my back. Jack would be brave, Jack would be cocky. Jack would talk back. I have to be like Jack. I can’t let ‘im down.

“Don’t lie to me, boy.” Snyder threatens.

“I ain’t.” It takes me a moment to register the pain. The slap delivered across my face passes so fast, all I can do is gape in surprise at first. An’ then the pain sinks in. My cheek is stinging with pain, an’ I know there will be a bruise forming there soon. Before I can even bring my hand up to the offending area on my face, Snyder is punching me in the stomach. I double over in pain, holding onto my crutch, it being my only support. Snyder seems to realize this, and he yanks it away from my grasp. I’se is taken off guard, and I fall to the floor, every bit of my body aching in pain. It doesn’t stop there though. Snyder slams his boot down onto my left ankle, my good ankle, and twists, hard. I can feel the bones grinding against the hard floor. My ankle explodes in pain, and I know it’s goin’ to be difficult for me to walk with it, especially when it is paired with my bum right leg. But there’s not enough time to mourn my ankle, because Snyder is kicking me in the stomach, over and over again, an’ I is curling in on myself, trying desperately to shield my already injured body from his attacks. An’ just as suddenly as is started, it’s over. Snyder is gone, the heavy wooden doors are once again locked, and Twitch an’ Kit are leanin’ over me, worried looks on their faces.

“What did ya do ta ‘im?” Twitch asks.

“What didn’t I do?” I smile playfully.

“How can you smile at a time like this?” Kit asks me, shaking his head. “You just got the livin’ shit beaten out of you!”

“Force of habit?” I say. I uncurl myself from the fetal position and try to sit up, but my back and stomach are howling in pain.

“Don’t try to stand up on your own, Crutchie. We’ll help you. I can probably also get Harris to switch bunks wit’ ya.” Kit reassures me. I nod, and together, Twitch and Kit carefully lift me off of the floor and place me on a bottom bunk.

“Can ya bring me my crutch?” I ask Twitch. Even if I’se is just layin’ down, it’s comforting knowing where it is.

“Uh, Crutchie? Snyder kinda took it wit’ him.” Twitch mumbles apologetically.

“Of course he did…” I grumble. “The bastard…”

“Crutchie?” A familiar voice calls through the dark.

“Jack?” I strain my eyes and see Jack’s face peeking through the window. I want to sit up, but I know I can’t. “Twitch?” I turn to the boy standing at my side. “Can ya tell Jack for me, can ya tell ‘im not ta give up on the strike? Can ya tell ‘im that for me? An’ can ya ask ‘im not ta go ta Santa Fe without me? Just, just let ‘im know he can’t give up, an’ that I’se is fine, an’ that he has to stay for all of the fellas.” Sleep deprivation is slurring my words, making my already accent mangled speech sound slow and garbled. I am aware of Twitch nodding and hurrying off to the window before sleep takes me in its deep clutches.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crutchie is trying to ignore his feelings for Jack. He is really trying to forget him and move on with life.

“Crutchie?” I hear a voice say from seemingly far away.

“Jus’ a few more minutes, Jack.” I mumble. I jus’ want a bit more sleep before hittin’ the streets today.

“Crutchie.” The voice says again. I blurrily open my eyes an’ see that it is not in fact Jack, and I is not in fact up on the roof of the Lodging House.

“Good mornin’, Twitch.” I say, sitting up a little. My whole body still feels sore, but it’s numbed a bit since last night.   


“Listen, Crutchie, Quips here is gonna set your ankle.” Twitch gestures to a person (a girl, maybe?) with short, messy black hair an’ brown eyes.

“Okay.” I say shakily.

Quips gingerly takes my left ankle in her hands. With one swift movement, there is a popping sound, and my ankle is once again bathed in pain. I clench my teeth hard, and I feel my teeth grind together. Quips takes a long strip of fabric and wraps it tightly around my ankle, holding the set joints in place.

“Thanks.” I gasp.

“Any friend of Jack is a friend of mine.” Quips says, taking my hand an’ helping me stand up out of the bunk. I see the other kids in the bunk room jostling about, waking friends and such. I lean against the bunk post for support, and try putting weight on my left leg. Since my right isn’t really an option without my crutch, I just have to suck it up. There is a jabbing pain as soon as I put weight on it, but my left ankle doesn’t really hurt more than my right usually does on a good day. I can handle the pain, even if it causes my left ankle to take longer to heal. Everyone is heading out of the bunk room doors, to breakfast I assume, and trying not to lean on Twitch too much for support, I follow the crowd out to the Dining Hall. Breakfast sucks, as I suspected, but I suppose I should be grateful I’se is gettin’ anything at all. Apparently it only happens twice a week. We eat our stale bread in silence, an’ then we all have to go back to the bunk rooms. I’se is about to sit and rest on my bunk when a guard comes in.

“Where’s the new kid?” The guard asks roughly. “The-” 

“Right here.” I say loudly, cutting off the guard before he can use a slur. I’ve dealt with slurs longer than I can remember, but my stay in the Refuge will not be about my leg. It will not be about Jack. It will be about me. Me standing up for what I believe in. Me making Snyder’s life as painful as possible by whatever means necessary. I will not be weak.

Without even saying anything to me, the guard leaves, and I follow him. He leads me to a fancy polished door and knocks twice before entering. I step into the fanciest room I’ve ever been in. There is a fancy wooden desk in the center, and sitting behind it is Snyder the Spider. Snyder motions for me to come closer an’ I do. I sit in a hard-backed chair in front of his desk. I notice a plain door off to the side, a closet maybe? I don’t have much more time to look around, ‘cause I is interrupted by Snyder clearin’ his throat.

“Name?” He asks in his low voice.

“Crutchie.” I say proudly.

“Got a last name to go with that?” He asks, soundin’ a bit bored.

“Morris.” I reply.

“You know Jack Kelly, don’t you?” Snyder looks up from a ledger he is writing in an’ stares directly at me.

“What’s it to you?” I ask.

“Answer me, boy.” Snyder growls.

“Answer me.” I cross my arms like I know Jack would do. No. Like  _ I _ would do. This is not about Jack. Jack watched while I got beat and dragged away. Jack is probably on a train to Santa Fe right now. From now on I do things for me, not for Jack. For me.

Snyder stands up and leans across his desk. He slaps me across the face before retreating again, slowly, and sitting back down.

“You must be close with Kelly. Only a friend of his would be just as impudent and self-centered.”

“Thanks.” I smirk.

“Just sign at the bottom.” Snyder sighs, shoving the ledger toward me. I read the information he has on the bottom half of the page.

**Crutchie Morris. Crime: Trespassing and disturbing the peace. Sentence: Six Months.**

Six months? Can I make it six months? I have to. I really have no other choice. Even if the fellas come to try and break me out, I doubt I can actually escape. I take the pen from the desk and use it to sign my name at the bottom of the page. I hand it back to Snyder.

“Don’t think you can go causing trouble. Just because you’re close with Kelly, it doesn’t mean you run this place.” Snyder warns. I take that as my cue to leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll see Crutchie confront how he feels about Jack!


	3. Chapter 3

Back at the bunk room, I get a visit from Albert at the window. 

"How ya doin' Crutch?" Albert asks.

"I ain't doin' too badly." I lie.

"Ya sure? 'Cause Jack said-"

"Well Jack doesn't know anythin' 'bout me!" I shout, suddenly really angry.

"Calm down, Crutchie."

"No! It ain't fair that Jack can jus' leave while we'se is fightin' all the bulls an' then jus' not show up at the Lodging House so he can run off ta Santa Fe! I don't need that! None of us need that! I don't need Jack! He can go off alone for all I care! I got Racer, I got you, I got Specs, I got all the fellas! An' I got me!"

"Crutchie, ya don't mean that."

"Yeah, I do. Now unless ya wanna leave, can we please jus' talk 'bout somethin' else?"

"Fine." Albert sighs.

"How are the rest of the fellas at the Lodging House?"

"Race is goin' crazy tryin' ta lead everyone, Davey's tryin' ta find Jack, an' Specs is still tryin' ta patch everyone up after the strike."  


"I wish I was with all you guys." I say a bit wistfully.

"Jus' you wait, Crutchie. We'se is gonna bust ya outta here."

"Yeah, I'se is sure ya will. But hey, ya better get ack ta the Lodging House 'fore the Spider comes back."

"Someone'll come visit again tomorrah." Albert promises as he disappears from the window.

Kit helps me back to the bunk I share with two otha’ boys, a kid named Jesse who looks like a slightly older, taller, and healthier version of me (and with a working right leg), an’ a black haired kid who jus’ likes bein’ called “Z”. It takes me forever to fall asleep, the sounds of the city and the Refuge invadin’ my mind, distracting me from gettin’ any rest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been forever since i've updated! here's a short little chapter that will brings a bit more plot (at at least buildup for more plot)

“Get up boys! I want this whole floor spotless!” A gruff voice shouts into the bunk room. I sit up and manage to hobble out of bed. I’se in a bit less pain than yesterday, but I assume that won’t last long. I follow Kit and Twitch out of the bunk room, but my leg causes me to fall behind, and I end up bein’ the last one at the supply closet. When the crowd around the closet dissipates, I find myself to be the only one without a cleaning supply. I know that can’t be good. My fears are confirmed by a strong hand on my shoulder, whipping me around.

“Shouldn’t you be cleaning, boy?” The guard asks maliciously.

“Should I?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow. I know I’se is screwed.

“I know you might think you’se is all high an’ mighty since you know Kelly, but you’se is still jus’-”

“This is not about Jack.” I say, clenching my fists.

“I guess that’s why he ran away when you was in trouble.” I snap. I can’t handle people thinking I’m just Jack’s friend, Jack’s pet. That I’se is only doing this for Jack.

I punch the guard in the face.

“Son of a bitch!” The guard exclaims, clutching his cheek. I smile proudly. The rush of adrenaline after punching someone really does make you feel better about life in general.

Then he punches back.

I barely register it at first, but I’m suddenly on the ground. Kicks are now raining down upon me, one after another in an endless succession. I can hear curses and slurs being yelled at me, and I shut my eyes tight, just wanting it all to be over.

I was a fool thinking I could be strong.

And then it stops.

I lift my head, and everyone is staring at the scene displayed in front of them.

Despite the stabbing pain filling my body, I push myself off the ground, using the wall for support.

“Enjoy the show?” I practically snarl, malice filling my voice. That’s new. I’ve never snarled at anyone before. And now I know why. Everyone turns their heads away immediately, avoidin’ my gaze. I like bein’ liked by people, it just feels horrible to be hated, but I suppose bein’ in the Refuge means being hated. And I guess this guard hates me now too, because he is now dragging me by my hair down the hallway to the same polished wood door from yesterday. Of course he’s bringing me to Snyder. He pulls the door open and shoves me inside, slamming the door again.  stagger a bit and steady myself on the hardwood chair in front of Snyder’s desk.

“I saw the front page.” Snyder says, his voice annoyed as he slams a newspaper down on his desk. I lean forward and see-Katherine got us on the front page! I can’t help but smile at the picture of me next to Jack.

“We really got a whole story!” I exclaim. I pull the newspaper closer to me, forgetting where I am completely. Our fists all held high in the air, we look like a real union. “Look at that! It’s just like Jack said, there ain’t no way Pulitzer can ignore us now!”

“So you do know Kelly.” Snyder drawls.

“No I don’t!  It’s this brain of mine, it’s always making mistakes.” I fumble, realizing what I just gave away. Snyder hates me already, but now he knows I know Jack. And he’ll stop at nothing to arrest Jack again.

“Tell me, where is he?” Snyder asks slowly, standing up from his chair and stepping around the desk. I try to step away, I’m just overcome with a sudden fear of what he might do to me. Jack has told me about what happened to him in the Refuge, and I’m not eager to find out for myself.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

“It says right here in this article,” Snyder waves the paper for emphasis, “That you were one of the front runners of the strike. Kelly, that kid Davey, and a boy with a bum leg called Crutchie.”

Katherine put me in the article?

“Don’t lie to me boy, it will only cost you later.” Snyder warns. I’m backed up all the way against the door now, wanting nothing more than to be on the other side. “Where is Kelly?”

“I don’t know.”

“I know you know! Tell me!” He’s shouting in my face, I shut my eyes, he’s standing too close to me.

“I got no clue! Honest!”

The blow to my face is sharp and biting, and I gasp a bit.

“Where is Kelly hiding?” Snyder asks, his voice dangerously low.

“Go to hell.” I spit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
